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I am seldom at a loss for words. In fact, seldom is an exaggeration. I have always got something to say. My school leaver testimonial said that I am, and I quote " ... full of ideas ... " Don't underestimate the power of those words. I got my first job in stockbroking on the back of those words. Stockbrokers need to be full of ideas. And never at a loss for words. Perfect candidate I was. I chat happily to all and sundry. I am on first name terms with all who work at my pharmacy, the chaps who serve me my morning, afternoon and en route home Vida or Seattle coffee, the security guards at my business park fall out of their "hokkie" to greet me by name, conversations come easily to me. Dates are not stressful for me. Not even with the shy, retiring type of chap. Not even blind dates. Mostly.
A glorious Saturday afternoon drink was planned at a seaside haunt. On the veranda, around 4pm. Warm, still, beautiful view of the bay ... perfect setting for a glass of bubbles and perhaps an early supper, too. John25 arrived after me. I had had time to soak up the atmosphere, admire the view, greet the people whom I knew in the venue, and make friends with the waiters. I was good to go.
The moment I saw John25, I knew. "He is an empty vessel" I said to myself. Vacuous. A nobody man. I was in for a treat. Not.
And indeed John25 was a soulless man. He was good looking enough, of a decent height, sporty and tanned. But empty. Vacant. Insubstantial. Deserted. Abandoned. No matter what I said, I could not get anything of substance out of John25. He was not offensive. I prefer offensive. At least offensive has energy. John25 chatted, but it was as if he was not there. I could not detect a soul. I could not feel his essence. It was disconcerting. And not fun.
I battled to engage with John25. I seldom, very seldom, battle to engage with people. Even blind dates. I can engage with the most wooden of people, like a Post Office clerk who doesn't feel like searching for my parcel. Even those dreadful call centre types from Telkom. I can even engage with them. John25 was not shy. He made an effort to chat. But he was absent. Missing-in-action took on a whole new meaning that glorious day on the veranda.
I drank my bubbles fast. I declined a top up. And John25 is still missing-in-action to date.